


Until The Very End

by highlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bully, Bullying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Highschool AU, M/M, Nerd!Harry, Popular!Louis, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlinson/pseuds/highlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was the way Louis talked, in a voice sounding so truthful that even Harry almost believed the things it had just said. Or maybe it was just the things that it said. Maybe it was the look in his big blue eyes, fixed upon his own, forcing him to get lost in them. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the little cute nickname at the end of the sentence. Probably that.</p><p>Or the one where Harry is a nerd and liked by nobody at school and Louis is a popular football player who takes interest in his story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until The Very End

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and it was my first one-shot so it's not perfect but well :) If you comment and/or leave kudos I'll love you forever :)

The bell rang. Time to go to the gym. Harry sighed – he'd given anything to stay in the library for one more hour, bury himself in all the books there and just forget the others who were certainly going to laugh at him again today. It's always the same, each day a routine of being made fun of or pushed against a locker. He tried his best to stay away from the group of guys that were known as troublemakers, but somehow they always managed to spot his mop of unruly curls somewhere in the crowd.  
Although he didn't hurry, he arrived before the others. Innerly Harry cursed, he hated himself for being so punctually. But on the other hand, he didn't like himself well at all, so that was just another point on the seemingly never-ending list.

As he opened the doors, he quickly rushed in and undressed himself to put on his sports clothes. Now he was glad that he was the first one, because he didn't really enjoy getting dressed at the cubicle. But there was a reason he did not change in the presence of others. Absentmindedly he ran his fingers over the dark, blue stains that covered his body.

Suddenly, the door went open and he hid away in the dark to quickly put on his shirt just as someone switched the light on. Again, Harry sighed. The lads that came in were the most popular pupils, due to their good looks, fitness and, of course, their football games. The school team was almost unbeatable and everyone cheered as soon as one of the players arrived. But Harry had absolutely no reason to cheer.

“Oh, Curly! Here again, are we? Ready to fail?”, a boy with blond hair and blue eyes asked in a heavy Irish accent. Harry remembered his name starting with an N. The lot laughed and so he did the usual: back away as much as he can. “Scared?”, a boy named Zayn (Harry remembered because his sister told him literally everything about him and “his beautiful, big, brown eyes”) asked, and everyone burst out into laughter. Harry quickly looked down to the floor, but he could have sworn their friend, who stood behind them, did not even smile. Strange.

Suddenly, the P.E. Teacher, a rather old-looking man with a big, grey mustache, came in and yelled at them to get ready, because as Harry noticed now, everyone else had arrived and was already in the gym. Without another look he ran there to, hid away from the yells and mocks of the football players.

After warming up, the teacher announced that they'd be split into three groups. One would play basketball, the other volley ball, and the last one was going to play football. Harry hated basketball the most. In fact he loathed every kind of ball game, because somehow his ball always seems jinxed and would fly into the other direction than he had intended. Today, they wouldn't play a real game, the teacher told the class, they would have only have to try to score as often as possible. Harry felt very uncomfortable because he was the last on his teacher's list (always the last anywhere, really), which meant his turn was the last and everyone would watch him fail. And he knew he would fail. He could never forget any failing of his, he thought as he looked at his bruised arms. The curly haired boy got even more insecure when he was selected into the first group, basketball. Of course he had to be put in that group. He sighed silently and went over to the gathering group of the fittest boys of class. “This could not be better”, he thought sarcastically. He would have have to stay there for the whole lesson because the group change was weekly. The other two groups left the gym quickly to go to one of the other rooms and he found himself left with Zayn, his two friends and two other boys who were known to be bullies. Great. Of course, all of them scored at the first try, cheering and laughing. When it was Harry's turn, he gulped, closed his green eyes that were widened with fear for a moment, took a deep breath, opened his eyes and fixed the top right corner of the basket. He shot and – the ball landed about three meters afar from his aim. Of course, he was laughed at and called Loser and worse, but he was used to it. Again, as he hurried to get the ball, he saw out of the corner of his eye that the boy with the caramel brown hair didn't seem to have fun at all. But that passed so quickly it was surely imagination.

“Watch closely”, Zayn said as he tossed the ball at his fingertip, turned around and threw the ball behind him. Straight through the basket. When he got the ball he turned around all of a sudden and threw it at Harry, who could duck quickly enough. He was so used to hiding and ducking away, it was as easy to avoid confrontations (with people or balls) as breathing. The dark haired boy murmured something that could have been a curse and then passed the ball on to his friend, who wore a white shirt with blue stripes that really matched his big, blue eyes. Out of an unknown reason, Harry couldn't help but stare at the boy who turned around suddenly, looked Harry right in the eyes, blue meeting green and shrugged while biting his bottom lip guiltily as if to apologise. Harry blushed, not only slightly, and was glad that the boy turned yet again and threw the ball in a perfect circle.

“Great, Louis”, Harry heard the blond boy, which he now knew to be named Niall, shout. Louis. A beautiful name. As the thought appeared to his mind, Harry immediately shook his curly head because it was so odd. Just a name as any other, wasn't it? He got back to reality when the boys shouted “Come on, Curly! Too afraid to shoot?”. Harry turned red yet again and quickly looked at Louis out of intuition, just to find him smiling encouragingly and making his knees all wobbly. He turned to face the basket which could also have been an enormous web made by a large spider just waiting for Harry to catch him and never let him go again. Through the loud voices of the others calling him names he thought to hear Louis' soft voice whisper a small “You'll manage it!” Probably he imagined it but he didn't care, it gave him confidence, he concentrated and - a miracle must've happened – scored.

He turned around slowly just to find the boys looking at him in disbelief and when he looked in the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen he was sure to find them actually winking. Yes, definitely, this time he was hundred percent sure to not imagine it, he got winked at by the most beautiful boy he'd ever met. NO. He got winked at by Louis. Just Louis, a boy from the football team who simply was the only one who didn't feel a natural distract to Harry. But as the bell rang and they walked away he saw said boy turn around to briefly smile at him and his knees were jelly again.

As every time after a P.E. lesson, Harry stayed to help the teacher clear everything away. He enjoyed this a lot because the man did barely speak so Harry had time to think. But now, all he wanted to do is not to think at all because all his thoughts rotated around this odd boy who somehow did not hate Harry, which he thought impossible for anyone else apart from his family. Of course not all his family, he corrected himself, as he looked down at his marked arms again for the third time that day.

As Harry walked to the changing room his mind was clouded with Louis: his hair, his eyes, his lips, his face, his beautiful figure, his clear voice, his lovely wink, there was Louis all over his mind, Louis, Louis, Louis, and as hard as he tried to push away these thoughts and to lock away every trace of this boy, he just couldn't stop thinking about him. It's not that he hasn't ever noticed Louis before, sure he has, but far from the distance, joking around with the popular people in the cafeteria or at the football field. What made it even more strange was that Harry had never thought of a boy in that way before. He had never had a girlfriend, of course not (which girl would hang out with him?), but he always fancied them. Why was it different with Louis? What did this boy do to his heart and mind?

Sighing, he shook his head to clear his mind, which worked a bit, for he had maths after lunch which really took up a lot of space in his head. He liked maths, a lot, to be honest. In fact, he liked every subject, except for sports. And art, maybe. He always, always got home with the best marks, hit the score in ever French test, was the best student of his class, knew every answer his teacher asked in English, could tell the exact time of every noteworthy event that had happened in the past thousand years. But no one cared. No one ever seemed to care. He wouldn't be all black and blue if it wasn't for sports. He could be bad at all subjects except sports and he would be safe. But he isn't. He'll never be safe at home and he'll never be good at sports. That's it.

As he opened the door to the dressing room he had to blink for about six times, yet he still couldn't believe his eyes. All of the hard work of keeping his mind fixed on school things ended up in being in vain, because in front of him sat none other than Louis. Maybe he'd gotten insane? Imagined people that jumped out of his mind? That would explain the situation better than the real Louis sitting there, so Harry closed his eyes shut and imagined him going away. But he was still there as he opened them. Chuckling. “What are you doing there, mate?” he asked. As Harry realised how dumbfounded he must have looked like he opened his mouth but nothing came out. “Never mind”, Louis smiled. “I … helped clearing stuff away...”, Harry, determined to answer the boy he's been thinking about for the last hour, could finally get out.“I see. Well, I've … erm... bruised my knee so I got hold of some ice cubes to cool it down.” “Ouch!”, Harry said and grimaced as if he actually felt the pain which made Louis chuckle again. “Hey, Curly...” “'M Harry”, he let out. Louis nodded, the smile never leaving his face and threw in, “Louis”. Harry had to keep himself from saying, “I know” to prevent from sounding like a total creep. “Anyway”, Louis continued, “ I think I have to apologise for the stupid behaviour of my friends... I always tell them to be more polite but... yeah...”  
That was it. He didn't like Harry, not even as a friend, he was just a nice guy.  
“It's no use crying over split milk”, Harry said shrugging, trying not to sound disappointed for he just got told the probably nicest thing ever because no one had bothered before to apologise.  
“My mum used to say this a lot when I was younger”, Louis pointed out laughing, which caused little crinkles to appear around to his eyes what made him look even more handsome.  
Harry blushed and ran his fingers through his curls which he always used to do when he was nervous.  
“I'm sorry”, Harry mumbled.  
“What are you sorry for, mate?”, Louis asked and looked so innocent and without mischievous intention that Harry decided to answer this obvious question.  
“For being a complete geek who is unable to interact with other and reminds you of your mum”, Harry said sadly.  
“But I was just joking. I didn't mean it! And you're good at interacting, at least with me, you make me laugh very often, which is strange because I haven't had much to laugh about in the last time... But despite what other people say, you're a great person and surely a great friend too, never forget that, Haz.”  
Maybe it was the way Louis talked, in a voice sounding so truthfully that even Harry almost believed the things it had just said. Or maybe it was just the things that it said. Maybe it was the look in his big blue eyes, fixed upon his, forcing him to get lost in them. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the little cute nickname at the end of the sentence. Probably that.  
Nevertheless, something of those little things caused Harry's eyes to fill with tears. He hated himself for it and immediately broke the contact, green falling from the blue, but Louis had noticed. Of course he had, his gaze was now directed at Harry's eye corners who were already wet.  
“Hey, Haz...” - there it was again - “Harry, sit down, do you want to talk? It's okay, don't cry” he said in a low, calming voice. Harry didn't know why he trusted this boy who was best friends with a guy that once burned all of his books just for fun, but he did, so he sat down.  
“I'm so sorry, I don't mean to cry, it's just, Oh god I'm such a crybaby.” He said the last thing more to himself but Louis still did hear it. Of course he did. “It's okay. Everybody hurts someday and everybody cries sometimes. Most are just not brave enough to show the others.” Oh God, was Louis an angel from above? He sure must be, no one in this cruel world could be so perfect.  
“So, come on, tell me.”  
Harry wasn't in the position to make demands, he knew this, but out of a dumb thought he asked quietly, “Will you tell me then why you don't have much to laugh too?”.  
Louis' eyes widened for a moment, realising his mistake of letting it slip out and not being aware of Harry's awareness and Harry regretted his question immediately but Louis just nodded.  
So Harry took a deep breath and told him everything: from his sister, who has more interest in being fooled by a football player than in spending time with her brother, who he screamed at for “ruining her relationship” when he told her he found him kissing some other girl, from his best friend, who had moved to Paris and hadn't written nor replied for two years, than of course he mentioned the bullying at school that took place everyday and finally he also told Louis, a boy he just met, about his biggest secret: that he got beaten up every time his stepfather was drunk (which he was almost always) and found out about another failure in P.E.  
As he finished, Louis sat there, mouth wide open. He gulped and Harry thought to see his eyes had gotten wet before he blinked and the impression was gone. “That's... I... I don't believe you, Harry! I can't believe you! No one in the world is cruel enough to beat up the best student of the school for such a stupid thing as throwing a ball and no one could ever possibly ruin this beautiful body!” Louis was in rage and as he realised what he had said he blushed, his red skin now matching Harry's, who did exactly the same.  
“I'm just... I mean... That's not normal, Haz... That can't be”  
And so Harry put off his shirt and gave away a chest, covered in uncountable amounts of black, blue, red, violet and sometimes yellow bruises. Now Louis definitely had tears in his eyes as he reached out his hands as if to touch one, before realising his movement and pulling his hand back.  
Quickly Harry put on his shirt, but his hands were shaking so he couldn't manage to button up the very first button. As Louis noticed he leaned over to help Harry, faces inches away from each other, and tried to fix it, him, too, trembling. Harry could only stare at him, how his eyes were all focused, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. As he managed the task, Harry murmured a quick “Thanks” and continued with, “Why are you sad? It's my story anyway. You don't have to worry.” Louis looked him directly in his eyes and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then his gaze dropped to Harry's neck and he softly touched the rather new looking, red marks there. “Please”, he said under gritted teeth, his voice trembling almost as much as his arms and fingers, “Please tell me that this was your girlfriend!”  
That made Harry laugh for the very first time that day, although it was a sad laugh, and he said “Do I look as if I could get any girl?” He said it jokingly, hesitating only a little, but hopefully not long enough for Louis to notice. But Louis just looked in his eyes with such an intensive stare that Harry's heart dropped to his knees and his smile faded.  
“I... I'm sorry”, Harry started, “I'm sorry but... I... don't know what I did wrong...”  
“You didn't do anything wrong!”  
“But you seem so upset...”  
“Yes, I'm upset about your step dad and about all the guys that have ever treated you badly and I'm upset about this world!”  
Harry moved backwards, a bit shocked.  
“We should go now or we won't get any lunch before the next lesson...”  
“Yeah you- you're right, let's go, I'm sorry Haz” he said with an apologetic smile and Harry couldn't think of a world where anyone could be mad at a boy who could smile so innocently and charm your stomach so that it's filled with butterflies.

“Want me to enter about five minutes after you?”, Harry asked Louis.  
He received a na bit dumbfounded stare and a “What? Why?”  
“Oh, that's normally what it's like. Like when I'm with someone which I helped with the homework they usually don't want to be seen with me later on so I'll enter some minutes after them.”  
At that, Louis snorted. “You actually did that? Haz, you don't have to help everybody, especially not people who treat you like that! I'm so fed up with society these days, with its groups sorted into 'popular' and 'non popular' people. We should go in there holding hands!”  
Louis smiled, a little blush evident on his cheeks as he thought his last rant over again, but Harry didn't sense the only half-joking manner behind his words.  
“Come on, Lou, you wouldn't want to be rumoured about dating Harry Styles, loser at ball games”, Harry said and laughed out loudly.  
“Oh, I think I could bear it”, he winked.  
Little did Louis knew, Harry thought.  
And meanwhile the butterflies turned into huge birds as Louis and Harry intertwined their fingers, smiling at each other and entering the cafeteria.

As they came to the football player's table, Harry wanted to let go (well, he didn't really want to, of course, but he knew he had to) but Louis just winked and pulled him to an empty table in a shadowy corner.  
“We have to kick society's ass, remember?”, Louis asked laughing.  
They had lunch together and after some salad, two burgers and two coffees Louis stood up and said “Thank you, Haz. I had a really good time with you.” He winked, smiled a last time and then hurried into the hall, leaving Harry lost in thought of his crinkles as he suddenly realised. Realised everything. All of a sudden, it seemed so clear to Harry! Louis had made fun of him. Had made fun of him all the way. “I had a really good time with you”. Since when being almost brought to tears by a geek's bare chest meant having a good time? It was just a line to make him think more, to make him hope. Harry was being so stupid. High hopes, it's always high hopes that bring him down. Had he really thought Louis actually enjoyed talking to him and spending time with him? He was probably a bet or something, “who canbear being with the nerd the longest?”. And did he actually, honestly think that Louis could ever feel the same for him? God, he was the biggest fool in history (he knew, he remembered them all and no one has been as dumb as he was being). He stood up, all alone again, as usual, throwing an angry stare at the coffee cup as if it was its fault and taking notice of a small, blowsy handwriting which said “Call and learn how to play football” then a number and finally “:) -L”.  
Harry had to sit down again. Maybe he wasn't right with the thoughts he had just had? Maybe Louis actually liked him? Or maybe the bet was still running and maybe Harry was being a fool all over again. Probably that.

Two days later

The sun was shining high up in the sky, showing it was a little past two, and Harry closed his eyes to let the sunshine warm up his cold bones. He was ready to meet Louis. Louis, who he hadn't seen for two days, nowhere in school and Louis, whose name only made a chill run up his spine and settle down in his fingertips, that, he liked to reminded himself proudly, ignoring the fact he sounded like a love-struck teenage girl, have been touched by his. At this thought, another chill came crawling over his whole body. And then he heard his laugh. This uncontrolled, high pitched giggle, calling out for him. It was just too cute how he laughed with only himself. And this time Harry didn't deny that it was cute. It definitely was. He didn't have the time to turn around because Louis was much nearer than he had thought and wrapped his short arms around Harry's waist.  
That made both of them giggle so hard they fell to the floor, Louis on top of Harry. They just lay there for minutes, colours colliding, caramel hair mixed chocolate brown, pink lips inches from red ones, blue eyes locked onto green ones. Just as Harry wished this moment would never stop, Louis startled and stood up, pulling Harry with him and turning the two of them around.

“Oh là là! Who do we have here? Our two love-birds?”, Zayn's voice echoed over the empty field.  
“Leave, we wanna play”, Louis said in a voice colder than Harry could have ever imagined.  
“I always knew it, ha! Well, a'ight, but don't you make a mess, girls”, Niall's voice now called out and Harry was sure that though he had a heavy accent he had said “girls” and not “guys”.  
“Let's go, Niall, I've got a date to go to. Maybe I'll fuck her tonight”, he laughed mischievously.  
“Go and fuck yourself!”, Harry screamed, and a moment later covered his open mouth with his hands.  
At that a fist collided with his jaw and he fell down. When he opened his eyes again, he caught the last glimpse of Zayn showing him the finger and walking away with his blond friend.  
“Bloody idiots”, Louis murmured under his breath, leaning down to help Harry up, who had his hand pressed on his jaw.  
“That was brave.” Louis smiled that crinkle-eyed smile once again. “Not sure if it was worth ruining your pretty face, though”, he added with a wink.  
Harry heaved a sigh. “It was not. It was dumb and I don't know why I did it. I didn't really need any more bruises.”  
He could see Louis' smile fade, it was like watching someone jump off a high bilding in an action movie, just in slow motion.  
“So why did you do it, though?”, he asked curiously.  
“Well... That's my sister he was talking about...”  
Louis cursed inwardly. “Don't worry, Haz. So, let's play football.”  
“Lou... They just made fun of you too. Why do you have problems with your best friends?”  
Another literal jump.  
“Well, erm, they said they, erm...” Louis sat down, maybe to make himself comfortable. Maybe not to be seen by anyone. Or maybe to save himself time. Probably that.  
“They said they didn't want to hang out with me anymore because my... grades dropped! Yes, I got really awful at History and I don't even want to talk about Chemistry!”  
Harry could tell that Louis was lying, anyone could, and especially him, who he was the one that had been noting Louis' every move for three days now. But Harry didn't want to force him to say or do anything he didn't want, so he just sat down in front of him, legs crossed, ran his fingers through his hair, absentmindedly bit his lower lip and just stared into Louis' eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the thoughts behind them. While Harry was barely blinking, Louis looked away every now and then as if he could no longer stand the intensity of his stare.  
After about ten minutes Louis sighed, stretched his legs out and started talking, telling his very own tale.  
“You remember, Haz, that I still owe you something?”  
“Yeah”, Harry nodded, “you promised me to tell me about your lack of laughter.”  
“Right. And I never, never ever, break my promises.”  
A small smile appeared, but it didn't reach the blue in Louis' eyes.  
“I always knew that I was different. I knew it back in primary school, knew it with every flower I picked and every diary page I wrote. I knew it with every gaze at someone I shouldn't be looking at. Shouldn't be thinking about. Not that way.” He bit his lower lip. “But I got wiser, more experienced, and someday I just started to hide it. At first it was wonderful, no more laughter, no more hate, just fortune and fame. But I knew I was missing something, of course I knew, everyone knows he's missing something, he just pushes the voice saying 'I need' down until it can't speak no more. But everyone gets reminded, and three days ago I got. You were the one to remind me, you were the one who got me to pick up flowers again on my way home, to open my locked up and hid away diary. You were – don't look so guilty, you didn't do anything wrong! It's my fault!” His lips lift a little at the end of this sentence, but there were no crinkles in sight. It was one of these smiles Harry practised every day, a sad smile, covering up something sad. He did those a lot when his mother asked him how school was going and he planned on using them if anyone ever asked him how he was.  
“However, although I noticed you the first time in this goddamn gym I knew there was something special about it. - Please, don't look so concern, I know I'm ruining everything, just let me explain, okay, then you can walk away, I'll understand, it's always been like that.”  
Harry wanted to protest, wanted to say he wouldn't walk away, but Louis just put his finger to his lips lightly, making Harry's stomach explode of butterflies and huge birds and even huger planes.  
“I wanted to talk to you, so I waited in the dressing room. As Zayn and Niall asked me what I was doing I told them. But I made a big mistake. They aren't stupid, so they kind of convinced me to tell them everything and I did, because I thought I could trust them. Niall just called me names but Zayn hit my leg really hard. But at least I had an excuse to wait half an hour to talk to you.”  
A smile. Finally one that touched the corners of his eyes which, Harry just noticed, were wet.  
As Louis remained quiet, Harry softly touched his thigh and whispered “Go on. Don't worry, I'll listen.”  
Louis eyes were glistening as he looked up and asked, “For how long?”, his voice barely more than a breath, same as Harry's as he answered “Until the very end.”  
That seemed to bring back Louis' old confident and he went on, “So... We talked and your story touched me right there” - he placed his palm over his heart - “and then when we held hands – I knew for you it was just fun but I couldn't get rid of this prickle and I just wanted to spend time with you again and it was so bad because no one ever understands me for feeling the way I feel for you, the way I feel for... boys...”  
At this, a tear rolled down Louis' cheeks as he whispered, “Haz, I know we only know each other for a total of three days but... I think I'm falling for you...”  
And Harry knew what to do, he never had had any experience like that before but he just bent forward, took Louis' chin in his hand, lifted his head up, looked him right in his eyes, blue and green colliding once more and said “I'm falling for you too, Lou, hard. Since the very first day. And until the very end” and then their lips found each other, at first they were kissing softly and insecurely, for it was the first time for both of them, but it soon got more passionate, and Louis was allowing Harry's tongue to discover his every corner of his mouth, and Louis' did the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for not involving Liam in the story and for portraying Zayn and Niall as dickheads lol  
> IIf there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes, let me know and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible  
> Tysm xx


End file.
